


Mine to Protect

by Asazake



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Violence, Cop AU, Cop! Mark, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Gang Violence, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Undercover, Undercover as a Couple, Violence, i love writing this so much mueheheh, lol i hope i won't discontinue this, um they're very domestic, witness! ethan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asazake/pseuds/Asazake
Summary: [ Witness x cop AU]Ethan Nestor probably had the worst luck ever. Moving in at 19 to NYC with high hopes of getting successful, he's instead greeted with deadlines of debt and rent. On a fateful night after a long shift at work, Ethan ran across a murder done by one of the most dangerous gangs in NYC. As a witness of said murder, he would need to testify in court. However, before the court does take place, he needs to be protected as a witness. Here's where Officer Mark Fischbach shows up.(In short, cop Mark is protecting witness Ethan and they need to live together until the court takes place but uh-oh there you go they're in love)
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	1. Fateful Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I would like to say that I am not a citizen of NYC, let alone the U.S, so there may be some(many, by some i mean many.) inaccuracy for how the PD works and all of those stuff. Sorry lol I am merely a horny asian trying to make a story about two straight american men to fulfill my thirst and escape reality. If there's anything way off, you may correct me in the comments(but pls be nice i'm an infp and we're known for being overly sensitive for nothing whew).
> 
> Anyways, cop mark and witness ethan. Enjoy the story!

“You ok buddy?” 

The question made Ethan snap out of his train of thoughts, flinching in response. He blinked slowly a few times, looking out the window and watch the red and blue lights reflect against the road below him. “Yeah, I can manage.” Still looking out of the window, he replied, a tinge of leftover fear lacing his voice.

It may be dark at that time, but he could still identify lines of worry on the Irish cop’s forehead while he was driving. “Just so you know, you’re safe with us,” he leaned back to meet Ethan’s eyes through the bars that separated the front seats and the back seats, “You’re safe, I promise you.” 

Something in the way that cop talks made him relax a little bit; his thick Irish accent and the friendly tone of voice is blooming a sense of familiarity inside him. It feels like he’s talking to a guardian in a video game or something, which made him regain a sense of safety in a way. “I know.” The slight tremble is yet to disappear, but it’s far better than earlier.

The cop taps on the steering wheel with his index finger, “Hey, I’m sorry you had to see that with your own eyes.”

That sentence sent Ethan back to half an hour earlier when he witnessed a murder by the members of, apparently, a famous gang in New York. It was a tough night for him, he was just walking home from a midnight shift from his job at 3 a.m., longing the warmth of bed and the safety of home. He was just walking home, only a few blocks away from his apartment building, walking through the empty streets without thinking about anything else beside going to sleep immediately once he gets home.

The neighborhood he lives in isn’t the most luxurious; the pay of his job barely pays his rent and food so he couldn’t be much of a chooser in the situation. It was convenient though, the small alleyways and crooks of buildings made it easy for him to have shortcuts to arrive home sooner. Being so used to walking alone in the neighborhood, never even once had he thought about the dangers of the streets of New York City at night. He never thought about how people could be so cruel and merciless under the shadows of the city.

Afterall, he’s just a young man who moved to New York, expecting job opportunities and luxurious living, but instead met with debt and stressful nights. Oh, how naïve he was. He remembered when he said his last goodbye to his family before moving in to NY, full of hope that he could make it big in the city. Four years later and he barely made enough for himself. And now? Now the city gave an even crueler fate to him.

It was like any other day, nothing special or different happened. Ethan took the usual shortcut he takes everyday when he’s going home; through the alleys of Joe’s Bookstore, turn left at the third flower shop, turn right at the second junction and just walk forward until it’s the main road again. The alleyways are creepy, sure, but it’s far from the bustling city road and nauseating nightlights, so walking through there isn’t really something to complain about. It’s relaxing, in a way.

As Ethan walked into the alley of Joe’s Bookstore, he felt his something heavy in his chest. He thought it was just exhaustion, so he continued walking, accompanied by the echoes of his timberland boots against the cold, harsh ground. The only light that was able to penetrate through the tall buildings was the dim moonlight; no other light sources were to be found in the alleyway. However, on that particular night, the sky was so cloudy to the point that even the moon couldn’t help him navigate through the darkness.

To light his way, Ethan turned on the flashlight in his phone and aimed it forward, slightly tilting to the ground so that he won’t step on any rats or dead animal because they’re scattered through the ground. The flashlight was bright and he navigated through the alleyways easily, until he walked past the flower shops.

From afar, he heard faint echoes of shrieks and cries; he assumed it was just animals fighting because he’s seen a lot of those, but this sound, this specific sound is... eerily heart-wrenching. It sounds like a person but that couldn’t be it. Almost nobody walks through this path except him, hell, even the owners of these buildings don’t know about this path. Curious about the source of this sound, he kept on walking until the source is closer, and closer... and closer and—

“This fucking bastard is so annoying,” A man with deep, gruff voice said. His whole tone and intonation screamed danger and it made Ethan stop dead in his tracks. He then hid behind a corner of a building, a decent amount of distance from the origin of the sound.

 _Seems like I found the source._

The man was only a few meters away from him, presumably just around the corner that Ethan’s hiding behind. With a little dash of bravery, he slowly peeked from behind the corner, his back against the wall. When he finally had visual of what he’s been searching for, his blood drained from his whole body to the ground. The night wasn’t hot neither was it cold, but sweat trickled down his temple and neck, his lips trembled, and his feet suddenly lost all of their strengths.

The view he witnessed was terrifying; there were two men in dark suits, knives in their hands, and pistols resting on their hips. The men each had a dark look in their eyes, a look which only murderers—no, worse than murderers—, a look which only psychopaths had. Their gazes were cold and unforgiving he could almost feel it piercing through his bones. However, the only person who could truly understood how cold their eyes was the man sitting limply against the ground.

The poor man was wearing a white button up shirt, yet it’s now mostly stained red by his own blood. He had bruises and cuts, ranging from light to deep cuts all over his body, mainly around the neck area. His feet were probably broken, seeing from the way they bend abnormally on the ground. The blood he coughed up from his mouth dripped down to the puddling blood under him, staining the asphalt into a shade of scarlet.

“Let’s just kill him now,” another man said, his voice calmer and much more soothing, but radiated so much menace and poison. “we don’t have time for a shrimp like him.”

“But ‘He’ told us to cover up his death properly!” The man with the gruff voice and bigger body retorted, a bit of fear in his voice when he mentioned ‘He’.

The smaller and slender man rolled his eyes, “Who cares? His death will be so insignificant that they won’t bother tracing it back to us. You know how the NYPD works, they’re just stupid ooga-boogas with guns and tasers,” before continuing, he kicked the poor man on the ground once again. “Besides, we’re the elite members of the gang. I don’t understand why ‘He’ gave us this pawn task.”

“I think ‘He’ gave this job to us for a reason, so let’s—” The big guy was disrupted by a slender finger over his lips.

“Shh! Look.” The man tilted his head towards where Ethan was hiding, specifically to the ground below him.

Hearing that, Ethan’s stomach churn with fear and his heart stopped immediately. He looked at the direction that the man was pointing at and noticed his phone’s flashlight aimed to the ground. His blood turned cold when he noticed his mistake, realizing how much more dangerous this is. Slowly, he retracts his phone and turned off the stupid flashlight, hoping they won’t notice the movement.

“What? It’s just the moonlight.” The big guy brushed it off.

Confused, the smaller man asks, “What moonlight—? Oh.” As he looked up to the sky, he realized that it was no longer cloudy and that the moonlight has shone back.

Just a little sense of relieve ran through Ethan’s body. He thanked the sky for cooperating and saving his life, but he’s not safe yet; he needed to get out of there. Peeking for the last time to make sure that they’re not paying attention to his direction, he got a clear view of the poor man’s face. The man had some strong features that made Ethan recognize him easily. He winced his eyes, trying to get a clearer view and— 

Oh my god that’s Joe from Joe’s Bookstore.

Fuck, Ethan doesn’t personally know him but he visited the bookstore a lot in the past, either just strolling around the bookshelves or straight up buying a book. Each time he checked out a book, Joe would always guide him and recommend him books that he thought Ethan would like and he’s not going to lie, every book Joe recommended were great, easy to read for a dyslexic person like him. Now he feels like leaving him behind to die is a crime without being a crime itself and imagining going to his funeral like he doesn’t have any involvement in his death made his stomach turn upside down.

Ethan can’t leave him there, he can’t. He’ll live with the knowledge that he could’ve saved a man from his death his whole life and regret it every time he remembers. The burden of that guilt is too heavy for him to handle. He started planning out the whole rescue and escape plan. First of all, go back to the main road through the path he just went through and then call the police—

“He- he...lp—” Joe cried out with the last of his strength only to be kicked again in the stomach.

“Goddammit, I think we should tie him to a weight and dump him in the river.”

No, it would take too long if he’s going to walk back to the main road. It would take at least fifteen minutes tops when he’s running, and he’s a pretty fast runner. He would already be dead at the bottom of the river when the police arrived. He at least needs to be there for Joe until his last breath. It’s the least he could do for him.

Quietly, he typed in 911 on his phone. “911 what’s your emergency?”

“Um...” he whispered shakily, “I need- I need help at 1626 Geraldine Lane, there’s a— there’s a guy getting killed please come quickly, please I’m scared the perpetrators might hear me...”

“Okay sir we are sending our units there, now I want you to get out of there as soon as you can and go as far as you can from the scene.” The operator instructed, making sure that she was clear on the ‘flee the scene’ part.

“I can’t leave, the victim is my friend, I can’t— I can’t let him die like that...” Ethan refused to leave, still believing he could save Joe. “How much longer do I need to wait? They’re going to dump him in the river, oh god—” small sobs started to leave his mouth, but he tried to keep his volume as low as possible by biting his knuckles.

“Sir, please, your safety is our priority and we are on the way there,” she explained, “Please sir, staying there won’t do you any good to yourself or your friend.”

Overwhelmed, his cry started to get louder, and a hiccup accidentally escaped his mouth. “Fuck...” he mouthed, berating himself while also forcing himself to get over the fear and stop crying. 

“Sir? Are you o—” He immediately turned off the phone call.

“Nate, there’s someone behind those corners.” The smaller man notified his friend, his voice no longer soothing and calm. This time, his voice sounded more alert.

“I know. Is it an undercover cop?” the bigger man confirmed, and turns his head toward where Ethan was. “Or is it just a poor passerby?”

The sense of dread ran through Ethan’s whole body, deciding whether being there for Joe until his death is worth his life or not. He froze in place, back still against the wall while his feet refused to work. The crying has stopped due to a switch in his brain that went from fear to pure survival instinct, causing him to ‘play dead’. Sure, he’s playing dead now, but if the cops aren’t going to arrive soon enough, he’s not going to be playing dead anymore. He’s going to be dead-dead.

“Listen, I’m going to walk there and find _nobody_ and by nobody, I literally mean no single person there,” the smaller man started walking towards him, the clacks of his shoes getting closer and closer each second, “however, if I still find a person hiding behind that wall, I will kill them... right there and then.”

He’s giving him a chance to run.

“I’m so sorry Joe,” he whispered before finally started running down the alleyway, the tears in his eyes welling once again. 

While he was running, he gathered the courage and looked back one more time before turning on the alleyway, his green eyes meeting with the tall man’s dark ones who is now standing on the place where he was standing on a minute ago. Those eyes, those cold, ruthless eyes finally met his cowering ones. He could picture his dead body against the rough asphalt, limp and helpless if he didn’t run away. 

However, even after he ran way further from those men, the gaze and shiver he felt from that one man were etched at the back of his mind, cursing him with the knowledge that _he knows_. He knows that Ethan’s been standing there since the beginning, and in those knowing eyes, Ethan also knows that the man will remember him.

After what felt like running for forever, he finally met the main road, greeted by the view of blue and red lights illuminating the whole street. Once he felt like he regained a sense of safety, even just for a little bit, his legs gave up and he fell down to the pavement, then a cop with kind eyes and Irish accent held him. His arms held up Ethan from fully falling face down to the pavement, also making sure that he had no injury whatsoever.

“Hey kid, can you hear me?” the cop gently tapped on his cheek. “Oh god. It’s okay kid, you’re safe now, it’s okay.” He must’ve felt Ethan’s body tremor when he cooed, because the concern in his eyes were genuine.

Everything was blurry, which was either caused by the pooling tears in his eyes or the ringing in his head, he couldn’t tell. All around him, he saw people in blue scattering into the alleyways, the place he witnessed something that he would never forget in his whole life. At the same time, the relieve brought by that one cop was overwhelming, so overwhelming that he suddenly bawled into his chest, gripping tight on his uniform. Before he does, he faintly saw the name badge on his uniform, which said ‘Sean Mcloughlin’, and whispered ‘thank you’s to him.

And then, they’re back in the car.

“It’s fine, it was my fault that I stayed there like a... like an idiot.” Ethan replied to Sean, fidgeting his fingers in anxiety.

“No, no, I heard that the victim was your acquaintance, so I understand your reason to stay,” he smiled, “I personally think you did great in surviving those gang members.”

Hearing the words ‘gang members’ made him shiver. On this day and age and he still managed to accidentally run across a gang attack. “I only survived because _he_ let me,” he clenched his fists, “my life was in his mercy, Sean. He could’ve killed me, _but he didn’t_.”

A beat of silence and a visible tightening grip on the steering wheel. “Listen, you’re in our hands now, not in his anymore. We’ll keep you safe, I promise you that,” he gulped the tension in his throat, “Keeping you safe isn’t my duty from the PD anymore, I’m taking this personally and promising you on my own name.”

“Why do you care about me so much? You only met me half an hour ago.” He made sure he showed confusion in his tone.

“Your eyes told all of it, all of the pain you went through, I mean, you’re only 18? 19?”

“Sir, I am a 23-year-old adult,” Ethan corrected, but he made sure his tone was a bit playful to let Sean know that he’s fine with it.

“Oh, shoot, sorry, yeah, I mean,” he cleared up his throat, “when I was your age, I was never exposed to something as gruesome as that, even as a cop.”

“I must be super unlucky to accidentally stumble upon a murder then.”

“Yeah, you were. Not your fault though,” once again, he turned his head, “remember that.”

Something about what he said made Ethan’s breath hitch. He needed that. He needed the reassurement that it wasn’t his fault, despite all of the guilt he felt. “Thank you, officer.”

* * *

Back in the police quarters, Ethan was kept safe in Sean’s office. He was given all of the necessities he needed, not by the PD, but by Sean. It seemed like the Irish man was adopting him as his kid for the time being. He’s been so caring and thoughtful of Ethan throughout these whole shenanigans and he’s grateful for it, since he doesn’t have any family members in NYC to fill that role.

About an hour and a half has passed since the horrifying even took place. The whole police quarter was in utter chaos, every single department working on chasing and tracking down the gang that’s been causing quite a lot of problems recently. From what Ethan overheard, it seems like the gang problem has been a long-time problem for them, starting from the 90s or so, but the gang haven’t been this active ever since the 21st century, until now. Every single thing from drug and weapon snuggling, identity forgery, kidnapping, and murder, the gang has done it all. However, the PD seems to struggle on hunting them all down because of how complex and big the gang system is.

The gang doesn’t have an official name; only referred as literally ‘the gang’ even by the members themselves. Now, the members of the gang are mostly identifiable and all are kept in the police database, but the leader itself is always unidentifiable. They came up with a few names in the past but all of those turned out to be false info. No matter how much time they try to squeeze out info from the gang members, all they say is that the leader only refers himself as a pronoun. It’s always either ‘He’ and ‘Him’. The only ones that know his true name are the higher members, yes, the members that Ethan met earlier, but catching those elite members is harder than it sounds.

It’s like they’re everywhere and nowhere at the same time. For example, just after Ethan left the alleyway, the police entered and found nothing but the pooling scarlet blood on the ground. No DNA, no trace, no footprints, no nothing. And all the elite members always do that; they’re experts in leaving no trace and evidence. That’s also what separated the ‘pawns’ and the ‘elites.’ The pawns are easy to catch, like their name, they’re just pieces to discard, but the elites are the pieces to keep and use strategically.

He also overheard that the gang is probably on the hunt for him.

“Ethan?” Sean entered his office, startling the young man inside. “Sorry to surprise you, you’re holding up okay kid?”

“Yeah, I’m better, I think,” the grip on his mug of coffee tightened. He watched carefully as Sean walk around the office and sat on his work desk, facing him.

“You’re warm enough? We can give you more blankets and coffee.” The officer offered as his hands worked on tidying up the case files on his desk. “The coffee is personally made by me. You like it?”

“Yes, I’m warm so no thank you and yes I like it a lot,” he replied as he swirls around the coffee in his mug. 

A warm smile stretched across Sean’s face, “I’m glad you do. Anyways, I’m going to ask you some questions and if you don’t feel comfortable answering, just tell me, okay? We don’t want you to force yourself. We can go slow.”

He inhaled a deep breath, “Yeah, sure, ask away.”

“Okay, so, it’s about the identities of those gang members,” he paused as he whips out a notebook from under his desk, “did you hear any of their names? Aliases, perhaps?”

Trying to remember any recollection of names, Ethan hums, then something struck. “Oh, yeah, I think the smaller guy called the big guy ‘Nate’, I think. But then again, I’m pretty sure that’s a fake name because at that moment, they already noticed my presence soo...” he shrugs. “Dunno, this info might not help.”

“No, it’s okay, any info helps so don’t worry about that.” He reassured, writing on his notepad. “Okay, next question, can you give me in-depth description of their appearances?”

“Um, the big guy ‘Nate’, is muscular and big, he had ginger hair and stubbles around his chin. As for the smaller guy, he’s... creepy. He’s tall and slim and had dark, chocolate eyes. His hair was black, slicked back and he was clean shaved.” A shiver went down his spine when he remembered the smaller guy.

“Ah yes, the infamous duo. It’s been a while since they last appeared.” After the comment, he continues, “Next question, did they mention the reason they went for Joe?”

“Uhhh, not that I recall but,” Uncomfortable, he rubs his neck. “they did mention something about their boss giving them a ‘pawn task’ or some sort and then the big guy said that their boss must’ve given them this task for a reason.”

_This could mean that Joe may not only be a bookstore owner._

“Ah yes, good good. Okay so, you mentioned that they saw your face, correct?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How much of your face do you think they recognize?”

“It was dark, we only had the cloudy moonlight above us. They probably won’t recognize me in a heartbeat but upon close inspection, it’s possible.” The memory of those cold eyes went back, haunting him. “Our eyes did meet after all.”

“Shit, okay, so we really need you as a witness in the court if— _when_ we finally catch them so we had you covered by the WITSEC program, if that’s okay with you.”

“When is the court going to be held?”

Sean bit his lower lip, “We don’t really know. It depends on our investigation. We might have to work with the FBI, so, we don’t know exactly when but maybe in a couple of months? Years?”

“Years? I can’t do that I have jobs and bills to pay for!” Ethan placed his mug on the desk, his hands now preoccupied on fiddling.

“We will cover for every expense since you’ll be living out of town, we’ll also notify your family and friends about your disappearance but we can’t tell them the truth.”

“Out of town? Where?”

“I can’t tell you the exact location but it’s in the more peaceful part of the U.S... um, I’m so sorry about this Ethan but, can you please cooperate?” he pleaded, “We’ll give you compensation and stuff.”

“Money can’t buy my freedom, Sean.”

“But money can afford you better apartment.”

Fuck, he’s right.

“Still, I can’t be locked up for years without meeting my friends and family!”

“You won’t be locked up! Just going undercover and have a bodyguard by your side, I promise you it will be like normal. You can even have a job and everything.”

Imagining how boring it would be, he pouts, “I dun’ wanna...”

“Ethan, listen, this isn’t about money or freedom, this is about your life. They could be searching for you _right now_ and or planning a way to assassinate you, so please, cooperate.” To be honest, Sean didn’t want to tell him like this but he deeply cared about his wellbeing.

That made Ethan ponder a bit. 

_“however, if I still find a person hiding behind that wall, I will kill them... right there and then.”_

“Goddamit, yeah sure whatever, WITSEC program, sounds fun.” Like a sulking kid, he fell slumping back to his seat, snuggled up in a fluffy blanket.

Sean chuckled at the sight fondly and typed some stuff on his computer. “Okay, we have some documents for you to sign.”

“Sure, sign it for me, I don’t care.”

“Oh! And they already assigned an officer just for you!”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, a knock was heard from outside Sean’s office. 

“This must be him,” he had a mischievous shit-eating grin on his face, “I’m sure you’ll like him.” He said, winking.

“Suuure...” still disinterested by the whole thing, Ethan rolls his eyes.

“Come in, Officer Fischbach.” And with the permit, the officer steps into the room.

“Good morning, sir.” His voice was deep and smooth with a little bit huskiness at the side. 

The officer stood just by Ethan’s chair, so he couldn’t see him, but when he turned to see his newly dispatched bodyguard, he expected nothing but an old cop with a dad belly but boy oh boy, was he wrong.

Ethan sure does like this officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice the reference from the Netflix series 'You'? Yep it's Joe Goldberg that goddamn stalker lol I love the series.


	2. Acts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The public is a shooting set, their personalities are a lie, and their relationship is fabricated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter I wrote this while doing online class so there'll be probably many mistakes bc I didn't beta read this. I hope you enjoy anyway

The officer assigned to him was built like a Greek god. He had wavy, medium length raven hair with brooding dark chocolate eyes and stubbles on his chin which literally didn’t have any business being so attractive. When Ethan’s eyes met his, the butterflies in his stomach suddenly erupted, wanting to burst out all at once. The redness on his cheeks and ears are getting more and more visible, causing Sean to chuckle in amusement.

“I told you that you’ll like him,” he teased, only to be glared back by flustered Ethan.

“Um, uh, yeah, he seems...” his eyes scanned the officer beside him once more, “...nice.”

The mysterious officer side-eyed him, looking him up and down and never in his life had Ethan felt so _exposed_. He felt like the officer just stripped him down and devoured him inside out only with his eyes. After a while, the officer simply gave Ethan a smug smirk and his eyes went back to focus on Sean. God, he feels like he’s being played and as much as he hated to admit it, he kind of likes it.

“I’m here to pick up Mr. Nestor. Is everything taken care of?” He asked, that silky and sultry voice of his making Ethan dizzy.

“Yeah, Mr. Nestor here already gave his consent about everything.” Somehow there was an emphasis on the word everything, but maybe Ethan’s just imagining it.

“Okay, I’m going to give him a briefing before we leave, is that okay?”

Ethan’s eyes widen at the question asked, “Whoa, whoa, we’re leaving _now_?”

“Yeah kid, we can’t let you roam New York without protection after what happened. We’re taking you somewhere safe and kind of isolated but I’ll assure you, the place is nice.” Sean explained.

“Okay so... brief me through this please...” Hugging himself with the fluffy blanket, he asked.

“Sure,” Officer Fischbach took a seat next to him, “but first let me introduce myself. I’m officer Mark Fischbach, I’ll be your bodyguard for the next few years, hopefully just months.” He held out his big hand and Ethan accepted it gladly.

“I’m Ethan Nestor. Nice to meet you,” still averting his gaze, he replied.

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Mark paused, huffing a breath, “anyways, we’re leaving in an hour by boat.”

“Excuse me, but boat?”

“Yes, Mr. Nestor, don’t worry too much this will just be like a vacation. Just a little bit more dangerous,” Mark winked playfully. “So yeah, leaving by boat in an hour, blah blah blah, so when we arrive, we’ll be completely different people okay? We’ll have our own fake life and fake names, which is kinda fun if you ask me.”

“I get to decide myself?” Finally, something that piques his interest.

“Of course, why not?” He said as he turns his chair to face Ethan.

Ethan looks up to the ceiling, thinking of countless names he could use for himself. Then, after a couple of seconds, he thought of the funniest name he could possibly make up and giggled. “How- how about ‘Norbert Moses’? Pft—” he proceeded to laugh louder after managing to say it.

Mark and Sean both laughed at how ridiculous the name sounded, but they didn’t laugh nearly as much as Ethan does. 

“You can’t use that name Ethan, as funny as it is. Pick a more realistic name maybe?” Suggested Sean.

“Nah, I don’t have any ideas beside Norbert Moses.”

“That’s fine, we had our new names assigned already anyway.” Mark says as he pulled out the paper from one of the files on Sean’s desk. “You’re _Morgan Warren_ and I’m _Jason Vaughn_ , apparently. Nice to meet you, Morgan, I’m Jason.”

“Cool, cool. What’re our backstories?”

“Uhh...” Mark flipped to the next page; eyes somewhat bewildered by something written on the paper. “We’ll be... disguising as a couple.”

* * *

**06.00 a.m.**

The air was cold, but refreshing. Ethan was sitting on the bow of the boat, looking wistfully to the vast and calm sea, gaze distant. 

The smell of sea hits his nostrils, reminding him of when he was a child at Sea World with his dad and brother. Suddenly memories of his family came flooding in to his mind. He regrets not appreciating and contacting his family often when he had the chance. He was so busy with surviving in the city by himself to the point that he’s rarely visited. Now, for only god knows how long, he’ll be isolated from his old life, his own flesh and blood. 

Ethan Nestor is no more. He is now Morgan Warren.

He looked to the side and found Mark Fischbach, no, Jason Vaughn, also looking out to the sea. Unlike Ethan though, he wasn’t sad or wistful; he was on alert, always ready to strike anytime. Considering that his job is now to be on alert 24/7 at all times, Ethan doesn’t really blame him. If they switched places, he would be too.

Everything happened so fast. A day ago, he was just walking his dog in the city of New York as a way to pass time before going to his work. Then, he became a witness of a murder by possibly one of the most dangerous gangs in the U.S. Now, he’s Morgan Warren, engaged with Jason Vaughn, a man he met just two hours ago at the NYPD quarters. And currently, he’s on the way to his new home on a small Island which he doesn’t know the name of. Everything is fine.

Will everything be fine?

His eyes travelled back to Mark and his strong figure. 

_Yeah, I’ll be fine._

Not long after, he drifted away to sleep.

* * *

**08.00 a.m.**

“Hey, Morgan? Good morning.” A gentle voice spoke as a warm hand touches his cheek, gently waking him up.

Woken up by the familiar voice, Ethan’s eyes fluttered open slowly as a breathtaking sight fills his field of view. “Mark?” he moans, still sleepy.

“It’s Jason, baby. We’ve been dating for three years; how could you still forget my name?” Mark played off the role perfectly, but well, figures, he’s been doing disguise in the NYPD for his whole career so it’s not really a surprise.

But the way he called him baby—even in disguise—pushed the right buttons inside Ethan. God, this man is so attractive that even a straight man like Ethan is attracted to him. It’s just a bro-dude crush though, nothing more. Just adoring his appearance. Nothing more. Nothing.

“Um yeah, uh, good morning babe.” Groggily, Ethan answered. He felt warm and content despite the cold morning air and noticed the blanket placed over his body that wasn’t there when he fell asleep. 

Seeing his confused face over the blanket, Mark chuckles, “You looked cold so I covered you with a blanket. Are you warm enough?”

“Yep, I’m warm.” Snuggling back with the blanket, he happily replies.

“I’m glad, but we already arrived at our destination, so we can’t stay here any longer.”

“We are?”

“Yeah, look.” Mark nodded, pointing to the harbor in front of them.

“San Juan? We’re staying here?”

“Yeah, this is our new home.”

* * *

**09.00 a.m.**

The small cabin they’re living in is nice. It’s called a ‘small’ cabin but it’s not really that small, compared to the other cabins on the island. Their cabin is moderately sized with a bedroom, a bathroom, a toilet, a kitchen facing the sea and a cozy living room with an LED TV. The interiors aren’t shabby or old, albeit a little bit dusty. It’s one hundred times better than his small apartment back in NYC.

“Ma—Jason, I’m done with unpacking my stuff,” Ethan announced as he closes back up his suitcase. “What are we gonna do now?”

Mark was in the balcony with a pair of specs, looking out for only god knows what, but he’s still listened to Ethan. “Mm... well, the first day on the island is supposed to be about establishing our character,” he said without tearing his gaze away from the spectacles. “So, first thing first, we need to let our neighbors know about our fake identity, while still keeping it lowkey of course. We don’t want too much attention; we just want a little bit of acknowledgement from the locals.”

Curious about what Mark was looking at, he joined him on the balcony. “And how will we do that, exactly?”

“Not that hard, really. Think about it,” finally, he stopped looking into the spectacle, “what do you expect to see when there’s a couple from Los Angeles move to live on a small island mainly for vacation and tourists?”

Ethan shrugged, “I dunno, sightseeing? They’ll probably act like tourists for the first time? Like, they do hippie stuff?”

“Bingo,” He crossed his arms against his chest as he leans back to the balcony railing, “for the first time, they’ll act like normal tourists at first and then eventually get familiar with the island, blending in with the locals. They’ll say goodbye to city-living after getting used to the life here after a while.”

“Huh, that doesn’t sound too hard.”

“It was never hard in the first place.” There was a little bit of arrogance in his tone. “The first key to master a disguise is acting like what people want you to act. Keep that in mind, Morgan.”

The younger man scoffed, noticing that tiny hint of superiority in the way he talked. “Sure Jason, thank you _so much_ for your inspiring tip.”

“Heh,” It caused Mark to smirk impishly. While he was looking down at the locals below their balcony, he spoke, “Okay Morgan, here’s the first act,” and he pulled Ethan’s waist close to his, eliciting a small shriek out of him.

“J-Jason! What—”

Mark leaned in closer, their faces merely inches away from each other. “Now we pretend like we’re whispering sweet nothings to each other. Make sure you giggle and make it cute, also, don’t forget to blush.” After whispering those things, he heaved out a breathy chuckle.

Finally, Ethan caught up to what he meant. When he glanced down from their balcony, there were some locals passing by, seemingly noticing their presence. “You should’ve warned me earlier instead of doing that, asshole.” Despite the context, he said it sweetly with a soft smile and a giggle, placing his arms over Mark’s broad shoulder.

“Sorry, I won’t do it again,” he brushed his nose against Ethan’s, “You’re a natural, by the way. You’re doing great, don’t stop until I say so.”

Note to self: never take Mark’s words out of context. Because when he does, the only response his body cause is get flustered and blush all over his body. “Fuck, don’t say that so casually.”

“Why? We’re engaged, _Morgan_. We’ll marry soon and you’re still flustered over some suggestive words, hm?” God, Ethan wanted to tore that shit-eating grin away from his face.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I’m living my next few months with you.”

“If you’re lucky, it’ll extend to a couple of years,” his smile widened.

“Ha!” I’d rather have the gang kill me.”

“Mhm, sure, I believe you.” Mark glanced down once more, certain that their act was believable enough and released the younger man. “Good first act. Moving on to the second act, we’re taking a stroll around the beach and visit some small shops on the island.” 

“You don’t look the type to do those sorts of things.” Fixing his posture and shirt, Ethan commented.

“That’s because I’m not that type of a person,” he averted his gaze towards the sea, seeming more distant compared to earlier. “That’s just my job.”

For a moment, Ethan was taken aback by the change of attitude. Just a minute ago he was playful, flirty, and warm but now he’ stiff, like he’s on a duty— well, he _is_ on a duty but you all get what I mean. Mark’s attitude caused a minor ache in his chest.

“Right, a job,” Ethan repeated as he rubs the back of his neck.

_A job. It’s a job. His job._


	3. A Shoulder to Cry On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan felt numb, Mark doesn't notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read so it's probably shitty ahhahhaha but i'm just so invested in writing this so... forgive me.

Breakfast tasted bland.

It’s not just today for Ethan; breakfast has _always been_ bland to him. But today, today especially tasted worse. It might be because of his sour mood, or it might be his body adjusting to the new environment, but he’s positive that it’s mostly because of the man sitting next to him, suddenly being cold and distant. He expected nothing less, really, because he’s known since the thing on the balcony that he sees Ethan nothing more than a task to complete. And here he thought they had chemistry.

Well, he himself also made a strong resolve. Starting from now on, he’ll see Mark only as a shield, an inanimate object without any feeling, a convenient living bulletproof vest, a pawn to discard, a security camera, whatever terms that objectifies him. He’s now sure that it was all a fluke; the heartbeat and the butterflies. He’s sure of it.

“I’m done with breakfast,” he announced, pushing his plate further from him and rose from his seat just to be interjected by Mark’s strong grasp.

The man raised his eyebrow, “And where are you going to, exactly?”

“There,” he points to the window in front of them, facing right to the beach.

“What do you mean there? We’re going there when the sun sets, _after_ we visited the small shops, remember? The plan? Plus, you can’t go there without me.”

Ethan shook away the grip off his arm, acting like a teenager on puberty. “I don’t fucking care about the plan in the slightest, _Jason_ , and I can take care of myself, it’s just the fucking beach no one will snipe my head off.”

“Listen, kid, the ones after you are more dangerous than you think they are and if they want to snipe your head off on the beach, they could, technically.” Slowly, the man also rose up from his seat. “So, don’t act like a brat and sit down. Eat your breakfast.”

Sneering, Ethan replies, “So you’re gonna act like my dad now just because you’re a few years older?”

The expression on Mark’s face softened a short moment. “Listen, kid, I thought you agreed on cooperating.”

“I did! I’m just—” Groaning in frustration, the younger man ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m just so overwhelmed. Just a couple hours back I witnessed a murder, Mark. Now I have to put up with all of these? I thought Sean said living here would be like normal and you even said it will be like a vacation. Now we suddenly have _schedules_! A goddamn schedule!”

“Yes, but after this _you’ll_ be the one seeing the benefit of—”

“Okay? But I need time to... to...” his hands did some random motions, “...to unpack, y’know? You were always an agent in disguise, I’m not. I was just an NYC citizen barely making a living and now I’m here stuck on an island with a person I barely know. I was never equipped with the skills to process everything in a blink of an eye. The murder of something I knew is still fresh in my brain, I still hear his plead in my ears.”

Mark fell silent after that. He stared blankly to the ground, his jaws screwed shut and his fists clenching. The eyebrows of his furrowed so much that they almost met on the middle of his forehead. 

“Put yourself in my shoes and cut me some slack, okay?” The muscles of his throat tensed, holding back tears. “I’ll be upstairs. I need some more sleep.”

And he went upstairs, feeling like he’d just ran a marathon with how much strain was on his body. Mark didn’t stop him or follow him. They just shared a knowing look with each other without saying anything, retreating to their own safe spaces for the time being.

When he arrived at the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed as his hands ran through the smooth fabric of the sea blue duvet. Just above the bed frame was a wide two panel window with the view of the same beach like the kitchen below. Ethan sighs, staring blankly at the constantly rolling waves of the ocean while the scene of the murder plays inside his head. It really is like a curse. It will stay within him forever; no matter how much time passes after this.

He then threw his upper body on the bed violently, hoping it would erase his memories of said murder, but all it does is make the springs in the bed croak loudly. Without realizing it himself, a single tear fell down his cheek, then another, and another, until finally it streams down his face. He sobbed quietly, hugging the pillow to his face to muffle his cries. A crushing wave of reality just hit him on the face.

He should’ve been given time to process everything, before he impulsively agreed to the whole fucking isolation thing, before he was sent away with a person he couldn’t even rely on. Sean, he should’ve asked for Sean to be his bodyguard, then maybe he wouldn’t be crying alone like this. Then maybe he’d have some sort of a support, someone to lean on and help him go through whatever all of this, instead of an attractive man who only cares about his job. Mark could’ve at least given some form of sympathy.

God, the stress of living alone for four years in New York has finally been released. All of those pent-up feelings, pressure, loneliness, everything, are only now being properly expressed through crying. For so long, he’s never had the energy or time to cry and reflect about it, but finally, finally he’s allowing himself to let go.

* * *

Warm. The only thing he could feel was warmth and... relieve. 

It was hard for him to open his eyes from all the dried-up tears, but when he does, he realizes that it’s already nighttime. He looked around the room, finding himself alone, although some of the mood lights are on. After stretching his body, he yawned a yawn that felt so incredibly good. Despite the warmth of the bed, the floor was cold, but he proceeded to walk anyway, going downstairs to search for Mark.

He wasn’t in the kitchen, he was neither in the shower, toilet, living room, basement, or closet. A sense of terror ran through his body when he realized that he was alone in the house. What if Mark was killed when he was asleep? What if he left him because he threw a tantrum? What if—

A crackle of fire.

With the uneasy feeling still in his chest, he carefully walked to the front door, turning the knob and pushing the door forward. There he found Mark sitting on the sand not too far from their little cottage with a burning campfire in front of him. Hesitating if he should call him out or just walk out to him, he just stood on the porch, watching Mark’s back from there. 

Barefoot, he started descending down the porch stairs down to the cold, rough sand. He walked towards Mark, each step getting heavier as he gets closer to him. However, when he does get next to him, all of the fear and anxiety dissipated. He squatted down and sat on the warm sand next to Mark, but still giving space between them. The warmth radiating from the campfire made him relax more and made him comfortable enough to close his eyes, listening to the crackling bonfire and crashing waves.

“Do you want to go home?” A sudden question came from Mark.

Ethan contemplates on the question.

“I don’t know. Do I?” voice coarse and dry, he asked back.

“I understand if you do. I didn’t think about how you feel after seeing _that_.”

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

Hearing that, Mark grits his jaws and gulped, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m not,” he tilts his head to look at Mark and the older man stared back. “I’m not sorry.”

“But I am.”

“Is your apology out of guilt and the fact that you still want to keep your job or is it because you finally understand me?” Ethan hugs his feet and turned back to face the bonfire, but the other still had his eyes over him.

“Both.” He simply answered, and Ethan looked at him with disbelief. “What? Is it wrong to want to keep a job that you love? Plus,” he ruffled Ethan’s wavy chocolate hair, “I’ve had the whole day to reflect on myself. I was wrong for doing that to you, I should’ve been your pillar of support through a time like this.”

Ethan shivered, swallowing the tension in his neck while hugging his feet tighter. “I’m so hurt Mark, so, so confused and lost, and—” he sobs, “I know I can’t go back to New York or to my family, and I know we’ve only met today, but I don’t have anyone else beside you here.”

The way he cried and how he revealed his vulnerability made Mark’s chest ache, not in pity, but in genuine concern and sympathy. Now he understands why Sean insisted on taking care of him so much and he regretted not trusting him. Slowly and ever so gently, he pulls Ethan’s head to his shoulder for him to cry on. His hand stayed on Ethan’s head, fingers rubbing small circles on his scalp and temple, hoping that at least he could soothe the pain even if just a little bit.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

* * *

“Mark, what are we gonna do today?”

Hearing his real name being called, he frowns, “Don’t call me that in public okay? You might slip up and blow our cover.”

“Chill, I’m not gonna slip up. So, where’re we going?” Ethan rolled his eyes wand stood up with a plate in his hand and placed it in the dishwasher. 

“We don’t need to go out today if you want to stay,” he took his last bite and smiled, “I won’t force you to go out, alright?”

At the remark, the younger man smiled fondly, the warmth in Mark’s eyes now coming back again. “Nah, I’m good. I wanna go out now.”

“Okay then, we can go explore the town.” Mark also rose up from his seat, placed his dirty dishes, and proceeded to walk towards the front door. “You coming?” 

“Oh! Oh! Can I drive?” Excitement in his voice, he asked.

“Drive? Whaddya mean ‘drive’?” The mischievous smirk was back on Mark’s face. “We’re walking, baby.”

“But Isn’t the town kinda far?” 

“What? Big baby can’t keep up?” He teased before walking out of the house by himself.

“Of course, I can keep up!” Feeling competitive, Ethan then followed him out, and once he was outside, he was immediately hit with a refreshing breeze coming from the ocean. Maybe walking isn’t so bad after all.

Feeling reinvigorated, he steps forward in vigor.

After about fifteen to twenty minutes of walking, they finally reached the town which was filled with a bustling crowd and pretty little vintage shops. They walked around, talking with locals while also checking out stuff that might be useful for their day to day lives. From an antique store, to a fishing store, a fish market, an ice cream shop, and finally, a small, old instrument store. It was tucked in behind the other shops, the structure crawled all over by vines and pink flowers with an old-fashioned wooden store sign.

Fascinated by the store, Ethan reads out the name, “ _Apollo’s Grace_ , huh? Wanna check ‘em out?”

“Why not?” 

With the approval from Mark, Ethan steps into the store, his eyes wandering all over the vintage instruments adorned with gold and built with polished wood alike. All of them looked so old and frail, yet there was an indescribable charm to them. The store smelled like mahogany wood and grandma’s perfume with a hint of refreshing jasmine scent, which fit the store so much. Behind the counter, there was an old lady who smiled brightly when they entered the store.

“Welcome! Please take a look around, don’t rush.” Her smile was earnest and comforting.

“Of course! What a lovely little shop.” Ethan replied with the same warm smile while his fingers ran through the tuts of a white piano, playing random notes.

“These are so cool,” Mark commented under his breath, looking around with the same wonder in his eyes like Ethan did. 

“Right? I’ve always loved music so this is just perfect.” Then he turned towards the store owner, “How old are these instruments?”

Before answering the question, she walked out from behind the counter to stand next to Ethan. “Ah, these are all over at least a hundred years old!”

“Whoa, that’s so old...” still focused on a tiny kalimba, he remarked.

“Yes, each and every single one of these had their own stories. Very special stories.”

Joining them both, Mark asks, “Can you tell us one of the stories?”

“Well, I never thought you’d ask!” It was obvious, the excitement in her tone, that is. “This is my favorite story. From an ukulele that my father brought from his journey in Europe.” She spoke as she took an ukulele from one of the display shelves protected by glass.

The ukulele was a tenor, made with dark wood and adorned with shiny, blue shell-like lines across the body. Ethan’s eyes instantly lit up once he saw the instrument in the old lady’s hands. “It’s so beautiful...”

“Of course, it is. My father said that the previous owner sang a song to sworn his love for his lover. My favorite part is that they’re both men! It’s so sweet, considering that it was in the 90s where everyone wasn’t as accepting like today.” She handed the ukulele to Ethan carefully. “I figured you’d like it,” she winked to both Ethan and Mark, suggesting that she knows there’s something between them.

“Oh... oh!” Realizing what she meant, Ethan’s face reddened. “Yes, um, yes actually I play ukulele so this is very cool.”

“Dunno granny, we might not need it.” Mark placed his arm around the other man’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “’Cause we’re engaged and pretty much already sworn our love on each other.”

The old lady’s eyes lit up when she heard about it. “What a sweet couple! I’m so happy for you both.”

“Yeah but, I really like this ukulele, Jason.” He pouts, “Can we buy it?”

“Only if you give me a kiss.”

Why does he have to act like this. Just. Why.

But Ethan had a something better in his mind.

“Oh, I will give you something way better when we arrive at home.” Ethan bit his lip suggestively, enjoying the bewildered look on Mark’s face.

“Oh my...” The old lady covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, watching from the sidelines.

Mark chuckled and sighed, defeated, and handed out his wallet to Ethan. “Fine, you smartass.”


End file.
